A Vampire’s Purgatory
A Romance in Central City, Novella Eight
Jordan K. Rose
Ebooks/Books are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Jordan K. Rose, Publisher
PO Box 714
West Kingston, RI 02892
A Vampire’s Purgatory
Jordan K. Rose
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9960847-9-6
Copyright © 2017
Kimberley A. Dias
All rights reserved
Editors:
Judith Roth
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Jordan K. Rose Publishing September 2017
Table of Contents
A VAMPIRE’S PURGATORY
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
About Jordan
Other Books by Jordan
Chapter One
As usual the night air in Central City was dank and foul. Ricard hated to admit he’d grown accustomed to it, but the fact was he never expected anything less than the putrid funk.
Twenty years after the fire at Panthera Laboratories the once prosperous city and hub of scientific excellence was hell on earth. Raymond Tyrone may have survived, but the fire burned away the veil hiding his insidious evil.
With a curt nod Ricard affirmed his readiness to enter the building. He waited for the signal from Brandt while two other members for The Vampire Guard moved into position. They’d spent the last six hours tracking a highly skilled revenant, one who’d managed to surprise and impress six old and powerful vampires.
“This guy is an odd one,” Gabe whispered as he and his brother, Rafe slipped from the shadows on either side of the building. “I’ve never known one to walk so tall and with such deliberate movement.”
“Yes, he seems to be far more advanced, more…vampire-like than all the others,” Ricard said. In the pit of the scientist-warrior’s stomach a worry burned.
“I’ll say. If we hadn’t seen him come out of the lab, crawling on his belly like a zombie, I’d have never believed the metamorphosis.”
Ricard felt the exact same way. Stunned was the best word to describe that moment. They followed the revenant clear around town prepared to intervene should he make an attempt to harm anyone. But he never did. He moved about Central City as if he was on a mission, checking off tasks on his To-Do List.
Up until tonight each of the revenants they’d encountered lumbered rather than walked upright, and they generally weren’t viable, living only a short period of time before either rapidly decomposing, being killed by each other, or having an unfortunate run-in with The Vampire Guard.
The near miraculous change in this revenant’s state was worse than troubling and clearly indicated Raymond Tyrone had unlocked some genetic key that would lead to more tragedy.
Having used the fire to kill his brother and gain control of the science and power of Panthera Laboratories, Tyrone had turned the company’s focus from finding cures and eradicating illness to bringing a plague upon Central City. At this point he’d also killed a few hundred people in his attempt to create his own manmade vampire army. His mania had driven him to experiment on the poor residents of Central City, luring them in with offers of food and money when he knew they lived destitute lives because of him.
No one was quite sure when it happened, but the brilliance of Tyrone had plummeted into a dark abyss many years ago. Ricard knew the only way to stop the man he once respected and believed would help to save millions was to kill him.
“Tyrone has advanced his serum’s potency and stability tenfold.” Rafe pulled on a pair of heavy leather gloves, then handed a second pair to Gabe before removing a thin silver rope from a backpack. “Still, I do not believe we will have any trouble capturing this one.”
He handed a third pair of gloves to Ricard. “Here, Doctor. You’ll be glad to have these in a few minutes.”
The smile on Rafe’s face was mirrored by Gabe. Though it was a familiar expression, one Ricard had seen many times before, it still caused him to flinch. Each flash of their fanged smiles, each time their eyes glinted with delight at some proven skill brought forward the memory of the first time he’d seen that look. Ricard hated to remember.
The brothers were known for their love of experimental torture, otherwise known as “ensuring the safety of The Guard and all it stands to protect.”
Together they designed a security system that made an actual vampire attack look tame. Most interestingly, if not alarming, they always tested system upgrades on themselves to ensure their fortitude and imperviousness. If he was honest with himself he had to admit he admired they would never purposely hurt another, though their genius related to security was certainly terrifying.
“Thank you.” Ricard took the gloves and silently thanked the universe Serge, leader of The Vampire Guard, had recruited the brothers rather than let them be rogue men The Guard might have to deal with.
A high whistle sounded from around the building and the three men entered through the back in silence, each one holding a gun loaded with silver iodide-filled bullets that would penetrate the revenant’s skin, then explode, releasing a crippling burn.
The team of six cleared the first floor in minutes. The empty apartments hadn’t been lived in for months. Meeting in the center hallway, they were joined by Brandt, Serge, and Oswald.
Serge signaled for the team to split again and enter opposite stairwells leading to the basement. It was the logical next floor to check, but above them, at least two floors up a woman’s voice whispered, “What have they done to you?”
Serge’s fist came up and everyone froze, focusing on the conversation above.
“What have they done?” a man’s voice asked. “Look at me. Look at how strong I am. Feel this. Feel this muscle. I never had this before. But now. Now I will live forever.”
“What are you saying? What has happened to you?” The woman choked on a sob. “Your illness was permanent. You shouldn’t be like this.”
“Come with me. Join us.”
“Yes, Jessica, come with us. Join your brother and me.” The sound of the third voice turned the blood in Ricard’s veins cold.
Each of the six vampires looked at each other. Surprise and disbelief kept them where they stood only long enough to hear the brief conversation.
&
nbsp; “Mr. Tyrone, how could this happen? How can he be well?” the woman asked.
“A miracle. As I promised, I’ve cured him, my dear.” Ricard had not heard Tyrone’s voice is years. It had not changed in tenor, still dripping with ice-cold malevolence.
“No. This is wrong. It’s awful. Joshua, you never should have gone. You never should have become this.”
“Wrong? Awful? Look at this!” The young man’s voice rose. “We have money now. We can eat.” He laughed. “You can eat. But once you become like me, you won’t have to pay to eat. You’ll take what you want from whomever you please.”
“No. I won’t go. I’m…this is awful,” the woman’s words were broken by a sob. “I…I’ve done a terrible job caring for you. Oh, Joshua.”
There was a scuffle of movement two floors above, and the vampires crept up the stairs stepping only on the far ends of the treads so as not to make a sound.
“Your future is with me, Jessica.” Tyrone chuckled. “Your past is mine. Your future is mine. Just as Joshua’s life is mine, so is yours.”
“No. We are not yours.” Her voice shook, though her words rang clear. “Joshua, come here.”
Tyrone’s mocking laughter rang out. “Jessica, you were always much more stubborn than your brother. Questioning. Challenging. Demanding answers. For a time I liked that, the streak to make sure everything was done the right way. But now I find it irritating. I find you irritating. Your influence over Joshua has always been a problem. Your interference in my work ends now. Boy, let’s go.”
The sound of a helicopter landing on the roof sent five vampires rushing up the stairs and out to the rooftop to ensure Tyrone had no escape route. But Ricard was not drawn to the roof. He was compelled to go to the apartment, drawn by the sound of the woman’s racing heartbeat and jagged breaths.
Instinct drew Ricard closer. He wasn’t sure who was more dangerous at that moment, the revenant or Tyrone. The realization of Tyrone wielding his creation right before Ricard stoked something long bubbling beneath the surface of the scientist-vampire’s ever-calm and logical persona.
Tyrone and his creation posed such danger to society, to the woman with him, to The Vampire Guard, Ricard was driven to protect what was important.
“Come Jessie. You’ll live like we deserve. Don’t make us leave you.”
“Come, boy. There’s no time to waste on her,” Tyrone said.
“Joshua, you’re changed. You’re sick.” The woman’s voice cracked. “My poor little brother. What has happened to you?”
“I have been rewarded. I am finally strong. I am powerful. I will live forever.” His laugh was cut short by a hacking cough.
“Come on, boy!” Tyrone demanded. “I won’t lose my creation.”
“You can’t live forever. No one lives forever. It’s not the right way,” the woman said.
The man’s coughing continued until it sounded as though he retched.
She screamed. “What is that? What came out of you?”
“It’s nothing. I need a drink. That’s all. A drink.” He coughed again. “Jessie, help me. Just give me a drink.”
“Never mind that. Come with me, Joshua,” Tyrone roared.
Footsteps scurried across the floor and jars rattled. “What do you want? I have juice, the juice you like. Apple. Will apple help? It’s clear. Clear fluids always worked best for you.”
“No. I need you.” His voice was a deep, gravelly sound. “I need your blood.”
“Leave her, boy!”
The woman screamed. “Joshua, no. Get off me!”
At the sound of her scream, something in Ricard awakened, something roared in him, howling for release. He kicked the door in, rushing into the room, gun raised and ready to kill.
Stepping over the threshold, Ricard saw Tyrone look over his shoulder as he ran toward the window, a maniacal sneer on his face. As the revenant lunged for Jessica, Ricard had only a second to decide where to aim and fire.
He fired his weapon at the window, heard Tyrone howl, and watched as the scientist crashed through the glass and over the fire escape.
“Joshua!” The woman cried as the revenant flung himself at her, mouth open and fangs extended.
Chapter Two
Jessie Stevens sat beside the rapidly decomposing body of her little brother, watching men move around her apartment, opening drawers, closets, and boxes. They spoke in low tones and left nothing uninspected in the home she had shared with Joshua.
A hot breeze blew through the broken window where Dr. Tyrone had fallen. More people arrived, and they spoke of cleaning up the remains on the street, in the apartment, and on the rooftop. She watched and listened, not quite able to connect with what was happening.
They questioned her, but she couldn’t answer, staring past them at the young man she’d practically raised on her own.
The worn, gaunt aspect of Joshua’s face still remained, though now the circles beneath his eyes were not gray. They were purple. His chestnut brown hair, the exact color of her own, lay sprinkled around his head with only a few strands remaining on his scalp.
Blackish-red goo oozed from his mouth and several teeth littered the floor.
“What’s your name?” a man asked, and Jessie remembered hearing the question at least three times.
Someone said something else, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up. Her entire world, all that ever mattered to her, was gone. The person she loved most lay beside her dead.
“Look at me.” The low voice was melodic and dreamy. The sound of it made Jessie relax. Something about it made her want to curl up and hide deep in the folds of the rich, accented sound.
But even so, she could not look away from Joshua. Barely eighteen and dead. She’d promised her mother she’d raise him up to adulthood.
An ironic chuckle broke in Jessie’s throat. “Barely a man.”
Someone touched her chin. The gentle touch drew her attention from Joshua. She looked up at a man who squatted beside them.
“Jessica, right?” His fingers opened to curve around the nape of her neck in the most tender caress she could remember feeling. “That’s your name.” He nodded.
His eyes, though dark as night, were blue.
“Blue, so very blue.” Jessie heard her voice and knew she sounded crazy, like some babbling nut, but that didn’t stop her tongue.
She shook her head. “No. Purple. A deep violet.”
He smiled, and that drew her attention to his mouth.
“A moustache.” Without thinking, she raised her hand to touch the perfectly manscaped moustache outlining his mouth and descending into a goatee. “Soft.”
“It is quite possible you’re putting it on a bit too heavy,” another man said.
“I’ll say. Ricard, are you trying to melt her brain?” a third voice asked.
“No, but she wasn’t responding before. I had to do something,” the man with the moustache and the beautiful eyes said.
His voice was accented. Spanish, he was Spanish.
“I like tacos,” Jessie said, then let her fingers trail from his moustache to his goatee down his neck to the soft cotton shirt. Sliding her hands beneath his leather jacket to rest on his chest, she searched for a heartbeat.
After all she’d heard about over these last many months, in spite of having very foggy thoughts, she knew to make sure he had a beating heart.
She opened her hand and pressed it to the muscle directly above his heart. A steady beat pounded, and she smiled.
“You’re alive.”
“Yes, I am,” he said.
“Oh, boy,” a man said.
Behind her, Jessie heard a couple male laughs. Oddly, it did not bother her to think of strange men in her apartment, laughing about something. At the moment she had not a care in the world.
Instead, she felt safe. Here touching this man with the moustache and the perfect eyes, the one with the deep, accented voice, she felt like her whole world was right.
“You smell
of cloves and incense.” She sighed.
“We can’t leave her,” the mustached man said. “Tyrone may be gone, but Rollins will be back for her. He’s not left any family intact once he’s struck.”
“Don’t leave me,” Jessie replied.
“No. Of course, not.” He took her hand from his heart and helped her to her feet. “It’s not safe for you here.”
Jessie shook her head. She knew this. Clearly, there was nothing safe about Central City. People were dropping like flies. Why, just two nights ago her neighbor from across the street had gone missing. Four days ago Mr. Rantsmack from down the hall reported his wife missing. “But she came back.”
“Who?” the man asked.
That dreadful night Jessie and Joshua woke to the sounds of Mrs. Rantsmack screaming. “Screaming bloody murder,” Jessie whispered.
The memory of that night would haunt her for as long as she lived.
“The blood. So much blood.” She pulled her hand from his and curled inward.
That was the night that changed Jessie’s life forever.
“She killed him. We tried to save him. We heard her screaming and…”
The events of what occurred raced through Jessie’s mind as if someone was running a newsreel on high speed. One by one the scenes of gore and horror whizzed by as if they were happening again. Finding Mr. Rantsmack on the floor of his apartment with his throat ripped out. Blood gurgling as he breathed his last. Seeing his wife dancing and laughing in the street one minute, then howling in agony at what she’d done the next.
A Vampire's Purgatory (Romance In Central City Book 8) Page 1